Christmas In Haven
by Bubble Wrapped Kitty
Summary: *sequel to Abyssum Abyssum Invocat* It's Christmas Eve but when living in Haven, things never go exactly as expected. With the weather gone crazy and a series of Haven Christmas traditions to uphold, Nathan and Audrey are running circles to keep things under control. Will they have a chance to enjoy their first holiday as a couple, or will Haven always get in the way?


AN: Thank you so much for your love and support of me and my crazy fanfictions. You don't need to have read Beneath the Sandglass and Abyssus Abyssum Invocat to understand this, but I appreciate those of you who have.

Merry Christmas, Havenites, and I'll be back in the new year with a new Haven AU for you all.

* * *

**Christmas in Haven**

Weston Keiper had been working in the Haven meteorological office for twenty years and he had never seen anything like it. "Uh, Jack, you ought to come take a look at this," he said, tapping the digital display and frowning.

The other man on the night shift, Jack Pearl, huffed and pushed his rolling chair across the room. He leaned forward, letting out a heavy breath that smelled strongly of cheese crisps. "What am I looking at?" he asked boredly.

"This thermostat," Weston said and pointed at the graph. "Look at the temperature."

Jack squinted at the screen and frowned. "Fifty-five degrees," he read off. "Must be broken. There's no way it's that warm out this time of night. It's four a.m. in the middle of December. It was only twenty degrees when I came in to work at midnight."

"I thought that too," Weston said, "so I reset the system. It came up the same. The temperature's gone up thirty-five degrees in six hours."

"Impossible," Jack said resolutely and stood up. He marched to the door and threw it open. A rush of warm air came in and when he looked out there were puddles all over the carpark and the gutter was rushing with water. Nearly all six inches of snow that had been piled up when he'd arrived had melted away and only the places where it had been shoveled into giant piles still remained. "Impossible," he repeated breathlessly. "It's - it's like spring out here."

. . . . .

Audrey Parker moaned and rolled over in bed, away from the heat of her partner's body. "Nathan," she whined, kicking aside the blankets as well. At the end of the bed Delilah the dog groaned loudly at the disturbance. "You turned the heater up too high again."

"I didn't touch it," Nathan mumbled into the pillows. His hand - broken thumb still casted - reached out across the bed for her, finding her arm and trying to drag her back onto his side of the bed. "It's where you left it. I stopped messing with it, you get too ornery."

"Why is it so hot?" she asked blearily. As she listened she could hear water rolling down the metal guttering on the house like it had just rained. She frowned and propped herself up on an elbow, squinting into the light streaming through the window. "Weird."

"Furnace pro'lly on the fritz again," Nathan said, still huddled down in the bed and trying to pull her back against him. "C'mere, Parker, it's not time to be up yet."

"No, Nathan, something's up," she said. She shook off his arm and walked across to the window. Opening the blinds, she took a step back in surprise. "Nathan, uh, what day is it?"

"Seriously?" he asked and finally lifted his head to look at her, a silly grin on his face. "It's Christmas Eve."

Audrey nodded. "Just checking, because the weather missed the memo," she said, gesturing over her shoulder. "It's the middle of July outside."

"What?" Nathan threw off the blankets and climbed out of bed, coming around to stand beside her. The world beyond the window was bathed in sunlight and the mounds of snow that had been there the night before were completely missing. In their place were enormous puddles and slushy mudholes and streaming rivers of runoff. "There's no way," he said.

Frowning, Audrey went over to the nightstand and picked up her phone. She flipped through the apps on her phone until she found the weather app and opened it. "Nathan, it's sixty-eight degrees," she said in awe, holding up the screen so he could see it as well.

"Impossible," he said, glancing from her phone to the window. "It was only thirty-four yesterday."

Looking at each other, they both came to the conclusion at the same time. "Troubles."

Nathan sighed and glanced half-heartedly at the bed. "I suppose it's too much to hope for a normal day," he said. "And here I was hoping... well..."

He trailed off but Audrey didn't need him to finish the sentence for her to know what he meant. "Tonight," she promised, reaching out and squeezing his hand. "But first we've got to figure out why the seasons have suddenly switched."

Nathan bent in and kissed her, reveling in the fact that he could do that whenever he liked now. "Okay, duty first then," he murmured when they finally separated. "I suppose it's too much to ask for a day off in Haven."

"We need to swing by the Gull," Audrey said and started looking for where her clothes had landed the night before. "I need a fresh change of clothes."

"I still can't believe you live above the Gull," Nathan said with a chuckle, rummaging through his closet for a clean pair of jeans.

"Hey, it's better than living in the Bed and Breakfast like some holidaying old lady," she replied, pulling on her shirt from yesterday and working on the buttons. She grabbed her jeans and slid them on and when she looked up Nathan was dressed and attaching his holster to his belt. "So I was thinking," she said, grabbing her sidearm from the night table and fastening it into her hip holster, "who do we know who affects the weather?"

"Marion Caldwell," Nathan answered immediately. "I was thinking the same."

"Looks like we know our first stop then," she said with a triumphant grin. "Well, second. This jumper is so wrinkled, what did you _do_ to it?"

. . . . .

Nathan parked the Bronco against the kerb in front of the right house and Audrey jumped out almost before it was fully stopped. Now clothed in a light tee and jeans - the temperature had risen another four degrees - she jogged up the path to the front door with Nathan on her heels. She knocked on the white door and they waited. A minute later when no one had answered, she knocked more firmly. "Marion, are you in there? It's Audrey Parker."

From inside she heard a weak, "Help!"

Nathan and Audrey exchanged quick, alarmed looks, and then Audrey twisted the handle and they ran in. Both of them kept their hands on their sidearms as they scouted through the house. Audrey edged through the living room and into the kitchen, and her heart dropped into her stomach. Marion Caldwell was lying on her side on the kitchen floor, clutching her enormously protruding stomach with a look of great pain on her face.

"Nathan, here," Audrey shouted, dropping down on her knees beside the older woman. "Marion, what happened?"

"My contractions started," she said, gasping and flexing the hand on her stomach. "I was on my way through the kitchen and it hit. They're so hard now, I can't get up. Please."

Nathan ran into the kitchen and knelt down beside her. "She's going into labour," Audrey said breathlessly. "We've got to get her to the hospital."

"Where's Conrad?" Nathan asked as they eased Marion up into a sitting position.

"The Truscotts' farm," Marion said. "Their barn has a hole in the roof, he was helping fix it. I couldn't get to my phone to call him. He's supposed to be home..."

"We'll call him on the way," Audrey said, lifting one of the woman's arms over her shoulders. On the other side Nathan did the same, and they eased the pregnant woman up to her feet. "But right now we need to get you to the hospital."

. . . . .

"Well that's solved the weather problem," Audrey said as they walked out of the hospital doors. It had been nearing seventy when they'd helped Marion Caldwell-Brauer into the building. Fifteen minutes later she was comfortably settled into a maternity room and ten minutes after that Conrad had arrived, wild eyed and frantic. He clapped both Audrey and Nathan on the back on his way into the room, the equivalent of a warm hug from the man with personal space issues. As they climbed into the Bronco, the temperature was steadily falling and storm clouds had built up in the sky.

"We should probably still expect some wild weather coming," Nathan said as he turned on the ignition. "A woman in labour... Her emotions are hardly going to be under control."

"Conrad must be helping," Audrey remarked. "The temperature is sinking back down to where it should be. Shame, I was kind of enjoying the warmth."

"You really have something against the snow, don't you?" Nathan said with a laugh.

"It's just so cold here," Audrey moaned. Already she'd had to grab her coat - really, it was Nathan's but she had claimed it for her own months ago - and pull it on over her top.

"Well it's just going to get colder now," he replied. "Those are snow clouds, by the looks of them. I imagine it won't be too long before it looks like December around here again." He chuckled at Audrey's exaggerated groan. "I know something that will cheer you up."

Audrey smiled. "Lemme guess; pancakes?"

Nathan glanced sideways at her across the cab of the truck, his lips pulling up into a characteristic sideways smirk. "If you insist."

. . . . .

It was snowing by the time they finished their late breakfast of pancakes at the diner and since it hadn't gotten unbearably cold yet, Audrey and Nathan decided to take a walk up and down main street. All of the shop fronts were decorated in the height of Christmas and there was an animatronic puppet show in the enormous bay window of the general store. Children were racing about, bundled in coats and excitedly cheering the snowfall.

Their walk ended at the city convention centre, the large building set aside for town gatherings. Since Audrey had missed the parade while she was in Arizona helping Charlie O'Donnell get settled into his new home, Nathan was going to make sure that she got the full experience of a Haven Christmas by forcing her to work patrol at the Christmas Carnival with him. She acted reluctant but she hadn't stopped asking him questions about it for the last week so he knew she was secretly excited.

The carnival was part fair and part day care services. A bunch of adults - either parents who were ahead of the curve or other adults who had no children - had all volunteered their services at keeping the stray children of Haven in line while their parents finished up the last of their Christmas shopping and wrapping. There were booths of holiday themed arts and crafts, games and puzzles, competitions, and an indoor playland. There was even an elaborately decorated backdrop in the far back with a large chair and a designated line.

"Oooh, Haven has a Santa Claus?" Audrey asked when she spotted the photo line.

Nathan chuckled and his eyes had lit with amusement. "Yeah, we do. Now c'mon, we've got patrol duty."

They set off in a large circle around the convention centre, not quite hand-in-hand but at least close enough together that their knuckles kept brushing. After the amount of gawking and gossip they had inspired at the Winter Ball, they had agreed to try and keep their relationship professional while at work. (The Chief had also had a word with them about it.) Of course all of the professionalism in the world didn't stop the people from talking about the dramatic kiss Audrey's given her partner on dance floor that night or speculating about the other aspects of their relationship.

As hard as they tried, it was far too obvious that they were a couple.

Thankfully the Carnival itself gave them plenty to do that kept their minds off the stares that followed them. When about half of the children of Haven were contained in one building, there was bound to be trouble. Not Troubles, but the ordinary "I want my mommy," "He stole my crayons," "I have a sick tummy," sort of trouble.

Nathan, of course, delighted in the affair. His love of children kept him buoyed as they dealt with an endless stream of fussy toddlers and bickering siblings. Audrey couldn't help but admire the way he handled everything, with a stern but compassionate manner.

"You're going to be a great father someday," she said when they had finally broken up a scuffle between two little boys on the inflatable playland.

Nathan smiled, clearly trying not to look too please at the comment. "Yeah?"

"You're so good at this," Audrey went on. "I'm not good with kids."

"Don't know about that," Nathan argued. "Handled yourself pretty well with that whole coloured pencil fiasco." Audrey snorted. "Really. You don't talk down to them, treat 'em like people instead of kids. I think they appreciate that, the older ones anyway."

Audrey laughed. "So you can raise them until they're about eight, and then I'll take over from there," she teased. As soon as she'd said it she realised the implications and her face flushed; had she really just suggested the possibility of raising children with her partner? God, what was she thinking?! She'd never even given much thought to having a family at all, let alone starting one with the man she'd only just begun seeing romantically.

Nathan's own ears had gone bright magenta but he grinned and offered out a hand. "Deal." Audrey chuckled, grateful that he wasn't overthinking the comment, and shook his hand.

A great wave of cheering broke up the semi-awkward moment and they both turned. The back door of the building had opened up next to the photo scene and a man dressed in a Santa Claus suit trooped into the room with a large, burlap sack slung over his shoulder and a beard of curly white hair. He gave a mighty "ho ho ho" as he waved and then took a seat on the golden chair set up for him.

"Is that-?" Audrey frowned, squinting at the face and trying to pick out features beneath the beard and hat. Those gnarled gray eyebrows and ice blue eyes - she'd recognise those anywhere. "Is that the Chief?"

Nathan chuckled, biting his bottom lip as he tried to contain himself. "Haven's Santa for fourteen years going now," he said with a nod. "Ever since Ollie Peterson got too old to do it."

"I always knew the Chief was secretly a softie, but playing Santa... That's one I didn't expect," she admitted.

"He says how much he doesn't like Christmas, but he's never turned down a chance to play Santa," Nathan said and there was a touch of almost fondness in his tone. "Pretends he doesn't, but he loves it. One of those things that reminds me he's still human."

Audrey beamed as she looked up at her partner, his face softened as he gazed across the centre at where the Chief sat with a pair of two-year-olds on his lap and a grin on his face. "Awh, you Wuornos boys are so cute," she said playfully.

Nathan rolled his eyes. "Way to ruin the moment, Parker."

. . . . .

"Wow." As Audrey and Nathan finally left at the end of the carnival, they walked out into a winter wonderland. All of the snow that had melted away in the morning had come back in a matter of hours and was still falling. The snowploughs were all running at full tilt but they were having a hard time keeping up with the weather. "I hope Marion's okay," she said, squinting up at the sky with a frown.

"I'm more worried about us," Nathan said. "Driving home in this isn't going to be fun."

"Guess I'll just have to stay at your house tonight," Audrey said with a grin. "To save you the drive out to the Gull."

Nathan smiled. "Can't argue with logic like that."

They pulled on their hats and began the walk back down to the Bronco, having to walk along the edge of the road because the pavements were piled high with snow. It took them ten minutes to clear enough snow off the windscreen to be able to see and by that time Audrey was freezing. She climbed into the cab and cranked up the heaters, and then cuddled up against Nathan's side the moment he'd gotten into the driver's seat.

The drive back to Nathan's house was more precarious than expected as they slid across the slick roads. They had to stop three times on the way home to help out other people whose cars had glided off the road into the snowdrifts. Audrey was soaked through and shivering by the time they finally pulled into Nathan's driveway.

"God, Parker, you're freezing," Nathan said anxiously as he shepherded her into the house.

"I'm fine," she assured him through chattering teeth. "Just need to get some dry clothes on." Nathan had been particularly paranoid about the cold since she'd gotten hypothermia from being locked in a cellar. He frowned at her, helping her shrug out of her coat, and she smiled in response. "Really, I just got my clothes wet," she insisted. "I'm just gonna raid your closet and I'll be fine."

Nathan still looked uncertain but he nodded. "You do that, I'll get started on dinner."

"No, you're changing your clothes first too," Audrey countered, pointing at his jeans which were soaked up to the knees.

He glanced down and his eyes were widened in surprise. "Oh, I hadn't noticed," he admitted with an awkward chuckle.

"Of course you didn't," Audrey said, exasperated but fond, as she laced her hand with his and led him to the bedroom. "What would you do without me?"

Nathan used his grip on her hand to pull her around to face him. His expression was completely serious as he tucked her damp, loose hair behind her ears. "I'd be lost."

"Nathan..." Audrey let out a heavy breath, her chest once again constricted by the feeling of her heart expanding. It was a sensation that was becoming increasingly familiar around her partner and his intense sincerity. Instead of trying to find words, she stood on her toes and pressed a searing kiss to his lips.

A minute later he startled when he realised that she was trying to remove his shirt. "What happened to getting dressed?" he asked with an arched eyebrow.

"I think maybe we should warm ourselves up first before we put on our dry clothes," Audrey said slyly. Nathan grinned and didn't argue.

. . . . .

They had spent nearly two hours in the bedroom "warming up," so it was well past sundown by the time they had finally gotten dressed. Audrey stretched out languidly on the sofa in a pair of Nathan's sweats and a jumper that completely drowned her, Delilah curled up on her feet. She scratched the dog's ears lazily as she dozed. In the kitchen she could hear Nathan wandering as he made dinner, his steady bass voice humming an aimless tune while he worked.

If anyone had told her a year ago that she would be in the centre of such an incredibly domestic scene, she would've laughed in their face. She had always been such an independent person, never settling in any one place longer than absolutely necessary. Now she had been in Haven for eight months and she had just rented a proper flat of her own. The spacious flat above Duke's bar was already more homey than the flat she'd let in Boston for three years.

She was putting down roots. For the first time in her life, she was making a place a home. And it was entirely to do with the man currently puttering around in the kitchen.

She had never found much reason to stay in one place before. She had only lived in Boston because of convenience - it was only a twenty minute drive from the FBI headquarters. Then she had come to Haven and Nathan Wuornos came into her life. First as a mystery - who was this strange, quiet man who felt no pain?

Then he had become her partner, something she had never had before. He always had her back, stood by her side through everything, and his stoic pragmatism balanced out her imaginative mind.

That's when things began to change, however. Partnership grew into companionship and camaraderie, which evolved into the first genuine friendship she had ever known. Duke had become her friend as well but Nathan would always be her first. Her friend, her best friend, and then more.

_"You two, you've got something different between you, don't you?"_

She had been reluctant - scared - to admit at the time that Duke had a point. That there was a deep, lasting connection between her at her monosyllabic partner, something stronger than she could've ever imagined. Then she had nearly lost him during the Sandglass case and everything had snapped into place with frightening acuity.

It had terrified her, at first, just how reliant and dependent she had become on Nathan's presence in her life to feel whole. As a person who had been alone her entire life, it had been scary. That's why she had denied and run from it for so long.

"Parker?" Nathan's head popped around the doorway. "Dinner's ready."

Audrey smiled and wiggled her feet out from beneath Delilah. She followed Nathan's retreating figure into the kitchen and as the smell hit her she hummed eagerly. "God, Nathan, it smells delicious," she said, dropping into the chair he'd pulled out for her.

"Chicken pot pie," he announced. There were already two plates dished up with steaming food and he poured them both a glass of red wine before he took the seat across the kitchen bar from her. "Mom's recipe," he admitted with the same timid, half-veiled smile he got whenever he talked about his mother. "It was my favourite dish she made when I was a kid. Apart from pancakes."

"Of course," Audrey agreed in amusement. She speared a piece of chicken on her fork and tasted it. She moaned as the rush of spices and flavours rolled over her.

"Thanks," he said, a faint colour blossoming above his smile. "I wanted to give you a big proper Christmas dinner but with the Carnival today I didn't have time. We'll do that tomorrow."

"Really, Nathan, this is amazing," she said, punctuating the statement by reaching across to squeeze his hand. "But you don't have to go to all the trouble."

"I want to," he said insistently. "It's been too long since I had a real Christmas. And besides, you've never had one. I want to give you that. Consider it your present."

"I thought my present was that silver box under the tree?" she asked, her brow arching.

"That too," he said with a playful smirk. "Should eat your dinner before it gets cold."

. . . . .

"Think Marion must've finally had her baby," Nathan said as he came back into the living room, his arms full of firewood and snow sparkling on his dark hair. "The snow's slowed down to normal again. You're definitely not getting home tonight though."

"That bad?" Audrey asked in surprise and she scrambled up from the sofa to look through the front window. Outside the world was bathed in white, wind-swept heaps of snow piled up against cars and buildings. There had to be at least a solid foot of snow, half-burying the tires of Nathan's blue Bronco. "Well look at that, my first snow-in."

"Merry Christmas," Nathan joked as he piled the firewood on the mantle. Once he'd finished, he hung up his coat and toed out of his boots before settling down at the hearth to stoke the fire back into the furnace it had been before dinner.

Audrey sat down beside him, leaning her back against the stone and letting the flames warm her back. "I can think of worse places to be stuck for the night," she said with a mischievous smile. Nathan returned her grin and leaned in to steal a quick kiss from her. They sat in a companionable silence as Nathan worked at the fireplace, Audrey lazily scratching Delilah's head and watching the snow drifting down through glow of the porch lamp.

"Okay, Parker," Nathan said, catching her attention. He stood and offered his hands, which she used to pull herself up, and then he led her to the sofa. Once she'd settled down in the cushions he gestured for her to wait and disappeared down the hall. He came back a minute later clutching a small box topped with a blue bow and he sat down on the sofa beside her. "So you have a present for tomorrow, but I wanted to give you this one tonight," he said, holding the box out for her.

"What is it?" she asked curiously, not expecting an answer. The box was square and only a few inches across beneath the overly-large shiny bow. She pulled off the lid to find a carefully folded layer of blue tissue paper, and when she peeled it back she gasped. Nestled in the tissue was a beautifully carved snowflake, elaborately tiny details etched into the crystal. There was a flourished 'A' embossed with gold in the centre and a tiny strip of golden thread looped through a minuscule hole at the top.

"Nathan..." Words failed her as she lifted the glistening ornament from its nest, marvelling at the way that the firelight flickered through the diamond-like facets.

"You tried to hide it, but I know how much it bothered you that you didn't have any traditions for Christmas," he explained. "And you loved the ornaments my family has passed down, I wanted you to have one as well. So I took one of my ornaments down to the glass-cutter and had him make one just like it for you."

"Nathan, this is the greatest thing anyone has ever done for me," she said genuinely, looking up from the ornament to meet his eyes with her own watery ones.

He smiled and reached out, rubbing away a stray tear with the pad of his thumb as tenderly as if it was made of glass. "I meant for you to be able to hang it on your tree tonight, but with this snow..."

"That's okay," she said, tracing the edges of the snowflake with a fingertip. She glanced across at his tree and her eyes lit. "Can I...?"

The smile that crossed Nathan's face was breath-taking and he nodded. She unfurled her legs and walked across to the tree. Picking an empty branch near the middle of the tree, in between a pair of porcelain baby shoes with a blue N painted on the toes and a hand-painted reindeer, she slipped the golden thread around the branch and stepped back to admire her work.

"It looks good there," Nathan said from behind her, stepping up to press himself against her back and weaving his arms around her waist.

Turning in his arms, Audrey beamed up at him with her hands on his chest. "It looks like it belongs there," she agreed. And although she couldn't bring herself to say it, he could read the rest of her thought in her eyes. _Just like I belong here._

Nathan kissed her until her knees had gone weak and then he cradled her head against his chest, barely able to feel the steady thump of his heart against her cheek. "Merry Christmas, Parker." And beneath his words, she could hear the truth of his thought as well. _I love you. _

So she smiled and nuzzled her head more snugly into his chest and said, "You too, Nathan."


End file.
